


Have a Seat

by wtfmulder



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Bisexual Scully, Early MSR: S2-S3, F/M, Masturbation, UST, getting caught
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-06
Updated: 2020-06-06
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:35:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24568597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wtfmulder/pseuds/wtfmulder
Summary: A couple of days before her period, Scully is crawling up the walls and on the furniture.Prompt list: Mulder walks in on Scully, Scully fantasizing, Scully horny on/before her period, grinding as masturbation, early MSR, UST, hurt/comfort, bisexual Scully.
Relationships: Fox Mulder/Dana Scully
Comments: 8
Kudos: 98





	Have a Seat

It started in the parking garage, not even five minutes after she’d gotten out of her car. Her morning had been off to a rough start. Saying goodbye to her warm bed, clutching her abdomen as it throbbed and sliced with an all too familiar pain, and making eye contact with her own inflamed whiteheads as she brushed her teeth in front of the mirror had effectively set the tone for the day. Rotten. It would be a lousy, rotten, no good day. At least she’d be spending it in the office: no meetings plagued her schedule and their latest case had yet to be approved. Small blessings, she reminded herself

Readying herself for the long, long hours ahead of her, she popped two ibuprofen in the car and washed them down with her lukewarm coffee. Her feet weighed like lead in her boots as she dragged them away from the pedals onto the concrete. The only thing that kept her going was the call of her lemon balm tea waiting for her in the basement. It was a wimpy call, not so enticing as to inspire any kind of cheer, but at least there was relief to be had in the future. So she trudged along, feeling too constricted in her boxy blazer and weighed down by all the work in her briefcase. 

On the way to the front door she crossed paths with Agent Inez, a fellow pathologist who did consulting work with the VCU. Inez wore kindness as well as she wore her perfume, which reached Scully in pleasurable waves. It was sophisticated and sexy, at least to the right person, and Scully was surprised at how much she wanted to be closer to the source. 

Inez pulled her into a tight hug, unsuspectingly granting the shorter agent her wish. Scully wasn’t a fan of hugs from people she didn’t speak to every day, but there was no denying how wonderful this one was. She fought the urge to nuzzle her nose into the fabric of a bright purple blazer. “It’s so good to see you, Dana!” Inez said, pulling back. She brushed a sweep of charcoal colored hair over her shoulder and launched into the standard small talk, which Scully parried with feigned interest. 

It was hard not to stare at her mouth. She noticed the other agent had changed things up a bit, swapped out Ruby Woo for a bruised berry pink. Perhaps there was even a touch of gloss. It was mesmerizing, the way it hugged her full lips, and in a strange way it added a sweetness to the words she spoke. 

The conversation was over before Scully even realized she was in one, and then she was watching Inez walk back to her car. Long, long legs in tan hose, firm calves tapering into elegant ankles, and then those sleek black heels. It made Scully wonder what people thought of her when she wore that exact same pair. 

She was hot all over while going through security, avoiding eye contact with the officers who ushered her through the metal detector and scanned her badge. Normally, on days like this, she could at least make it to the office without getting horny, but apparently her body wanted to act a fool today, and now the throbbing between her thighs was one more ache to add to the list. 

*** 

The lemon balm tea would have to wait. She pouted when Mulder turned her back around as soon as she stepped in, explaining that Skinner needed them for a quick meeting. He took her coat and her suitcase and began his little hounding routine, hand on her back until they reached the door. He opened the door, pushed her through, then guided her all the way to the elevator. Alright. Now she could breathe. She’d been thinking about him sliding that hand down and… 

Jesus Christ. She really needed to get it together. 

Nope. There it was again. “Mulder,” she snapped, pushing his hand away. He looked at her like she’d grown a couple of extra heads. Now it was awkward as they walked out of the elevator and down the hallway. He kept bumping into her. She kept bumping into him. Why on earth wasn’t he walking ahead of her? He loved to do that. He loved doing that so much he often lost her and had to wait for her to figure out which corner he had turned. But no, today he’d decided it was ‘let’s rub up against Scully’ day and he was taking every step to make good on that declaration. He practically pasted himself to her back when she stepped up to Kimberly’s desk and announced their arrival, and the heat of him licked her spine so deliciously it made her shiver and fight the urge to drive her heel through his shin.

“We’re here to see A.D. Skinner,” she smiled at Kimberly. 

“I’ll let him know,” Kimberly smiled back. She picked up the phone, alerted her boss, and nodded her head at the two agents. “He’ll be with you shortly. Feel free to have a seat.” 

Mulder sat down right next to her, pressing their arms and knees together and muttering something about timeliness being a virtue. A headache scratched feebly at her skull: dull and faint, but certainly destined for greater things. To her right, Mulder smelled so good she wanted to lick him. To her left, Kimberly giggled at something she read in an email. A soft, bubbly laugh, pink and white tips clacking away at the keyboard. She wore a gray turtleneck shirt that looked soft and form fitting. Scully almost paid her a compliment, but thought better of it and started listening to Mulder instead. 

He was in a good mood today. His good moods always became her good moods, and for a few minutes she forgot about the cramps and the swelling and the emotions pushing too close to the surface. They chatted about the upcoming case, which, quite understandably, necessitated an air of confidentiality, so if he leaned in close to murmur into her ear instead of speaking to her from a respectable distance, it was all in the name of professionalism. His words tickled her cheek and his honeyed voice stroked her hard between her legs. What would he do if she told him that? That if the mood was right, the way he spoke to her alone could have her slick and swollen in mere seconds? It was best not to let him know that. His ego couldn’t take it. And damn it, she really needed to get a grip. 

They only waited another five minutes for Skinner to welcome them into his office, and there she quickly found out why Mulder was in such a good mood. Their case had been approved early. Tomorrow they’d be on a flight to Montana to investigate a series of ghastly car crashes that had all happened at the same time. How the hell was that even an X-File? Her blood pressure rose as the trio discussed logistics of travel, lodging, and contact points with the local P.D. She could admit it was odd that the owner of each vehicle had been related to the other crash victims, but there was an obvious, logical explanation: bad drivers drive badly.

Skinner’s arms in his finely tailored suit caught her attention and calmed her down a bit, until she realized what the hell she was doing. Shocked at the deviancy of those particular thoughts, Scully jumped out of her chair and apologized to both men. “I’m sorry sir, and Mulder,” she said. 

Skinner and Mulder frowned at each other. “Are you okay, Agent Scully?” Skinner asked. 

Why did his voice have to be so deep? “I have an important phone call to make with the examiner who did an autopsy on the victims,” she said. It wasn’t enough of a lie to make things difficult for her. “I’m cutting it close as is. I’m sorry to run out on such a short notice.” 

“That’s fine, Agent Scully. Agent Mulder will fill you in on any details that you missed.” Skinner dismissed her with a wave of his hand and off she went. 

In the basement she took short sips of ice cold water she’d nabbed from the bullpen and tried to calm herself down. She was out of tea, but whatever, she’d pull through. She did make that phone call with the examiner, although she’d intended to do that later in the day. As she spoke on the phone she fanned herself and barely glanced at Mulder when he popped in through the doorway. While she finished up the conversation, he placed some things on her work table and began rummaging through the filing cabinet. “Alright. I will be seeing you tomorrow at three o’clock,” Scully confirmed with the examiner. She hung up and looked at what Mulder had placed on her desk… a twix bar and a steaming styrofoam cup. 

“Mulder…” she didn’t think she’d been that obvious. Had she? She was never the type to get snappy before her period, not any more than normal. Her brothers had always made comments — oh _Dana_ , stop being a baby, you must be on your period — so she’d always been very careful to reign herself in, even when those emotions were valid. And the items he procured were so specific to her personal routine of self-care that it struck her as very odd. It wasn’t like they had conversations about her menstrual cycle. 

He looked up from the F section in the cabinet. “It’s the nineteenth, right?” He asked. 

It took her a moment to figure out what he was insinuating, and the implications of his question were so bizarre she floundered for words. “You… I… have you been _tracking_ it?” she sputtered. 

“Not the way you’re thinking,” he defended. “It’s not like it’s a pattern that changes very often.”

“Yes but Mulder I — “ She wasn’t sure what she wanted to say. The gesture, while kind, was extremely unprofessional. But it was so very kind. And sweet... And there was very little about Mulder that was professional, anyway. Professionalism was only entering her mind because of her deeply inappropriate thoughts from earlier and this certainly wasn’t helping. This was how Mulder operated — throwing little bits of affection at her like an ornithophobic child might toss Wonder Bread to a pigeon. From a distance, in a defensive stance, throwing bits of crust and ducking like he’d tossed a grenade instead. She wasn’t about to scare him off. “Thank you,” she said finally. “I very much appreciate it.” 

“Don’t mention it.” He truly meant that. She could see the heat rising on his cheeks and secretly found it adorable. He started flipping through papers on his desk, a nervous tic, and she thought about kissing his pretty mouth. “I’m going to be tied up for the better part of the day in meetings with Skinner and behavioral.” He grimaced. “Looks like the rush on this case comes with a price.” 

“Do you know what time you’ll be back?” She asked. 

“Lunch’ll be at one. I need to get some things prepared for tomorrow,” he said. “You’ll be down here?”

There weren’t many other places she could go, she guessed. “I’ll go ahead and get everything booked. I’ve already set up our meeting with the examiner.”

“We need to call some of the witnesses and see if we can arrange interviews. The remaining family members, too.” He sighed, shoving random files underneath his arm to carry up to his meeting. “Damn it, I really had more I needed to get done down here today.”

“Write it all out and I’ll get through what I can,” she offered. 

“Thatta girl. I knew there was a reason I kept you around.” He ignored her icy stare. “Brought your lunch today?”

Her mind fell to her sad little flavorless soup in her thermos. “Yep.” 

“I’ll just get something from the vending machine and come join you, we’ll figure it out then.” His hand brushed her back as he passed her and lingered even longer than they were accustomed to. “Hope you feel better,” he said. She smiled at her lap. 

***

She knocked out her tasks about two hours in, with two hours left to go until lunch time. She did what she could on her own, but this part of the process typically required both of them: it was time to come up with their strategy and share their theories. There was nothing to do but wait for Mulder.

The boredom only served to make her hornier. She was alone in the office with reference guides, cabinets full of insanity, and her own sordid thoughts, and she wondered if this was what Mulder went through when he was cooped up alone down here for too long. Maybe this was why he had a whole drawer filled with boring pornography. Perhaps that was unfair; she just expected that a man who spent all his time chasing extraterrestials and researching strange, inexplicable phenomena worldwide would have more eccentric tastes than lesbian softcore and blowjob after blowjob after blowjob. There was not a single alien to be found in those tapes. Mulder was human after all, a perfectly predictable male specimen who enjoyed getting blown and watching huge breasted women have sex with each other. 

She should not be thinking about what gets Mulder off. Had she suffered brain damage on the way to work? It wasn’t that she was unused to these thoughts about her partner, but never so persistent and very rarely at work. And she certainly wasn’t the type to fantasize about every person who crossed her path. That’s why she’d parked herself in the basement, determined to get through this day without embarrassing herself any further.

Keeping herself busy was harder than she ever thought possible while being assigned to the X-Files. They were caught up on paperwork and had cases lined up for weeks to come. She flipped through some files Mulder had on his desk and saw that many of them had papers missing. She’d have to get on him about making sure everything stays in its original file. 

She leaned up against her table and reread some of the statements made by the witnesses they’d be interviewing tomorrow. There wasn’t much to look into there. The statements were all very straight forward about the crashes. The type of vehicle, the suddenness of the accident, the way each car flipped twice before it came down. Those details were very specific and she could admit that the coincidences were spooky. But she was more inclined to argue malicious intent from a family foe over magic of any sort. Damn it, Mulder. _Magic?_

Her thoughts fell back to Mulder and she pondered how their argument would go when he came back down to discuss the case. Still leaning against the table, she wondered if it would get heated. She had to give him the benefit of the doubt as she had yet to hear his whole theory, but magic alone certainly wouldn’t cut it. Both of them had the tendency to get a little nasty when they really disagreed on something, and she didn’t want to escalate it by letting her hormones get in the way. And she certainly didn’t want to deal with him being an asshole, anyway. 

There was something intriguing about the way they got when tensions were high. He liked to get in her space and she liked to get in his. It wasn’t really about intimidation. It was more like magnetism, two opposite poles drawn closer in their need to connect — in their need to get through to the other. Mulder wanted to be listened to. Scully wanted him to think harder about what he was making her listen to. They always gave in to each other, and that was the beauty of their partnership.

That’s what she was thinking about — occupying space, getting closer, closer, closer, as voices raised and hearts raced — when she started grinding back against her table. Mulder had gone from arguing with her in her fantasy to kissing her hard, and before she knew it she was subtly rocking her hips back to get more contact with the hard surface. She sucked on that fat bottom lip. She made his toes curl as she nipped at a sensitive spot on his jawline. 

The table moved back an inch. She jumped. 

Scully had more than her share of sexual mishaps — she refused to call them regrets, although some of them probably deserved it — but never in her life had she been so horny she started accidentally humping a piece of furniture. Absolutely beside herself with embarrassment, she stepped back until she hit Mulder’s desk, then she jumped and backed up again until she was in the middle. 

She was so ridiculously frustrated that her eyes began to water. It felt like her whole body was bowing down to the demands of her clitoris. Her cramps were getting worse with how hard she was trying to avoid dealing with it, and those irrational, painful feelings were coming to the surface no matter what she did to fight them off. 

It could’ve been a number of things. She tried to avoid thinking about what happened during the months she was missing; if the doctors couldn’t tell her, there was nothing to be done. Perhaps what happened had affected her hormones in some way. She should get those checked again. Or perhaps the general stress of the work was getting to her and her body was acting out in response, seeking a little comfort as she refused to slow herself down. 

Whatever it was, it made her desperate enough to start thinking about how to solve her problem. She thought about leaving work early, but so much had to be done before they left for Montana in the morning. Maybe she could take her lunch break early and go home and… but she wouldn’t get back in time. 

She thought about finding a bathroom and taking care of it, but that thought disturbed her so much she physically flinched. Then she returned to her earlier thoughts of Mulder and his video collection. Clearly this office had seen a number of debaucheries in its day… and it would take her barely any time at all, and Mulder wouldn’t be back for almost an hour and a half. 

Her legs carried her back over to her work station. Just grinding up against the rounded corner had almost brought her to orgasm relatively quickly. The idea of reaching down and actually touching herself seemed too forward. Too lewd. And it would take her longer to finish. Time was of the essence here. 

She made the quick decision to lift her skirt up, wiggling her hips as the fabric moved slowly over her hips. Alright, Dana, not bad, not too exposed. Her ass was mostly covered but it gave her enough exposure to press herself directly against the table, still covered by her panties, and her head lolled back at the feeling of the hard surface rubbing her clit. 

It took some time to find the best position. She slipped her hand down her body to part her lips to get more direct contact on the aching little bud. It worked wonders. She found a rhythm that pleased her, pressing her hands flat down on the table as she rocked her hips up and down, up and down. The soft sound of rustling fabric and her panting breaths filled the otherwise silent basement. 

She tried to think about people she didn’t work with, who’d never stepped foot in the Hoover building. Movie stars, old lovers, characters in romance novels she’d read and scoffed at. It always went back to Mulder, though. Mulder’s big hands on her, squeezing her ass as he fucked her from behind. Her mouth around his cock — he didn’t even know how good she was at that, what a shame. She thought about him pinching her nipples, so she tentatively did the same, bringing one hand down to tweak at herself through her clothes. She let out a quiet moan. It was better when she thought about Mulder. It’d been that way for a while. 

Her back was sensitive and he was always touching it. So she thought about his fingers walking up the column of her spine, light and tickling. She thought about his tongue following in pursuit, starting from the swell of her ass and licking up, up, up, and until he reached her neck, where he’d bite down and suck her up like overripe fruit. He’d be so possessive. So fucking posessive. He already was and they’d never done so much as held hands without the threat of death lurking in the distance. 

Her grinding became even more desperate, her pussy greedy for contact as the scenarios became more and more vivid. She wanted to be filled. She wanted to be licked. She wanted to belong to someone, specifically Mulder, and she wanted to replace this small table with a steely hard cock that she could rub and rub and rub against until she was painted in someone else’s desire. 

Right — right… there… just… a few more… yes, yes, god yes… she keened, then slapped a hand over her mouth and closed her eyes, and here we go, here it comes — 

“Scully?” 

Her back straightened as dread began to course through her veins. She quickly rolled down her skirt and began feeling around on the table for the first thing she could reach. A twix bar. She put that down and grabbed for a pen instead. Then she stood up straight, ran a hand through her frizzy hair, and responded with a voice that outdid Barry Manilow. “Yes, Mulder?” 

“... Scully, what were you doing?” 

She whipped around to look at him. She could tell by his face that even he was surprised he asked the question. An irrational swell of indignation caught her by the tongue. “I was moving my table, Mulder. I dropped something behind it.” She held up the pen.

He was quiet for a moment, then he repeated, “You were moving the table.”

“Yes,” she said. Maintaining eye contact proved impossible the more she lied. She licked her lips and shifted from foot to foot. “I was moving the table and I stubbed my toe.” 

“You stubbed your toe.” 

“Is there an echo in here?” 

“... Scully.” 

She licked her lips a dozen more times and finally lifted her chin up to look at him. His eyes were stuck on her hips, like if he looked at them long enough he would learn the truth of what happened. His jaw clenched and unclenched like his fists at his side. 

“I appreciate your concern, but now I’m fine.” She crossed her arms over her chest and tried to sound as calm as possible. “Did your meeting end early?” “I… had to come down for a book.”

“What book? I can help you find it,” she said. 

“I know where it is.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m just… going to get the book.” 

“Good. You still have about an hour left up there, don’t want to make the A.D. upset,” she reminded him. 

“... He’s already upset …” Mulder replied distantly, lost in outer space. 

“Oh Mulder, what did you do?” 

“Insulted the other profiler…” 

“Well, get your book and go back up there before you get in more trouble.” 

He turned around to do just that. It was on the table behind his desk. Then he turned back to her and cleared his throat. “I think I’m going to try and get out of it early,” he said. “I fear we might not get everything done if we don’t get a headstart.” 

“As long as your early departure doesn’t count against us,” Scully said. 

“So plan on an early lunch. 12:30. I’ll be back at 12:30.” 

“12:30,” she repeated. 

“Work on whatever you need to finish. And uh…” he paused, gnawing on his bottom lip. “If you need help moving your table…” 

She arched an eyebrow. “I have it back where it needs to be.” 

“I’m just saying. Skinner seems like he’s good at moving tables.” 

Her pen smacked him right in the nose 


End file.
